The survivors sat around the campfire, shrouded in a heavy, exhausted silence. The only sound in the camp, aside from the crackling of the logs and the chirping of night insects, was the occasional muffled groan from the short-haired bandit bound near Aldric's boots.
Aldric finished his bowl of stolen pea soup. He set the wooden bowl aside and looked at the five women.
"What are your plans now?" he asked gently.
The girls stopped eating, exchanging lost, helpless glances. Their world had ended yesterday; tomorrow was a terrifying blank slate.
Finally, the oldest of the group, a red-haired girl named Jenny, spoke up. "I have an uncle in Stoneyard Village. I want to go to him."
Aldric nodded. "And the rest of you?"
"My sister married a man from Stoneyard three years ago," another girl offered quietly.
"I know a boy there," a third added.
"Is Stoneyard far?" Aldric asked Claire.
"Not far," Claire said, wiping her face. "If we leave at first light, we can reach it by noon."
"Then we go to Stoneyard," Aldric declared. "Rest tonight. We march at dawn."
The women huddled together near the fire, drawing warmth and comfort from each other. Exhaustion finally claimed them, plunging them into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Aldric set a watch schedule with Kevin. Aldric took the first shift, leaning against the broad trunk of a pine.
In the middle of the night, Aldric woke. He looked over to the fire. Kevin was sitting on a log, his head bobbing heavily, his eyes fluttering shut.
Aldric walked over and shook the boy's shoulder. "Go to sleep."
"Ah... Ser... I'm awake," Kevin mumbled, letting out a jaw-cracking yawn. His eyes were bloodshot, struggling to focus.
Aldric shook his head. Too lax. If the main Skagosi force returned, Kevin wouldn't even hear them until his throat was cut. But he couldn't bring himself to be harsh. By Aldric's standards, Kevin was barely a teenager, and he had spent the day butchering men.
"Get some rest," Aldric said softly. "I'll take the rest of the night. We have a long walk tomorrow."
"Yes, Ser," Kevin sighed. He pulled a stolen woolen blanket over his shoulders, curled up by the fire, and was snoring within seconds.
Aldric sat by the flames. He didn't have a clock, but he guessed it was the hour of the wolf. To pass the time, he accessed his "Memory Palace," reviewing military history and tactical manuals from his past life, overlaying them onto the brutal realities of Westeros.
This world is cruel, Aldric thought, watching the sleeping women. But it's the one I'm in.
When dawn finally broke, painting the sky in bruised purples and grays, Aldric stood up. He grabbed his modified pickaxe and walked to a flat spot near the treeline.
The rhythmic thwack of iron striking earth woke the camp.
Kevin stumbled over, rubbing his eyes. He looked down at the waist-deep hole. "Ser? Are you digging another grave?"
"You figured it out," Aldric said, tossing the pickaxe up to the boy. "Your turn."
Kevin caught the heavy tool, hesitated for a second, then jumped into the pit. "Yes, Ser!"
Aldric walked down to the stream where Claire was washing her face.
"Claire," he said softly. "We cannot carry your Aunt Aimee with us. I've had my squire dig a grave. Let her rest here."
Claire froze, staring at the water.
"I'm sorry," Aldric added quickly. "I should have asked you first."
"No, my lord," Claire choked out, shaking her head. "I... I didn't expect... Thank you. Thank you for not leaving her for the wolves."
"I buried your village," Aldric said gently. "One more is no burden. Everyone deserves the dignity of the earth."
They buried Aimee in silence. After a quick breakfast of cold rations, the party set out.
They followed a muddy, rutted path that Claire recognized as the trade road to Stoneyard. Kevin walked point, his shield ready. The women walked in the center. Aldric brought up the rear, leading the captive bandit by a thick hemp rope looped around the man's neck.
Before leaving, Aldric had offered a simple warning.
"I am taking you to the village elder," Aldric had told the bandit. "Tell them everything, and they might spare you. Try to run, and I will take your left arm. Try again, and I will take your right. A third time, and I will take your head. Do we understand each other?"
The bandit, his wrists bound tightly behind his back, had nodded fervently. "I won't run, my lord! I need my arms!"
By midday, the dense forest thinned, giving way to rolling hills and patchwork farmland. Green, thigh-high wheat waved in the breeze.
Several farmers, knee-deep in the fields pulling weeds, stopped and stared as the armored giant and the tattered women emerged from the treeline.
"Jenny!"
A tall, balding man dropped his hoe and sprinted toward the road.
"Uncle Eonet!" Jenny broke from the group, throwing herself into the man's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. "They're dead! Mom and Dad are dead! The pirates killed everyone!"
The other farmers rushed over, their faces pale with shock.
Eonet held his niece tight, his eyes wide. He looked at the other weeping women, then up at Aldric.
"My lord," Eonet said, his voice thick. "Is this true? The coastal village is gone?"
Aldric stepped forward, leaning on his greatsword. He had prepared his cover story.
"It is true," Aldric said. "I am Aldric, a knight from the Fingers. My squire and I were shipwrecked off the coast. We found the village slaughtered. As we moved inland, we found these women being hunted by the raiders. We dealt with the hunters."
The women quickly corroborated his story, speaking over each other, confirming the massacre and Aldric's rescue.
Eonet took off his sweat-stained hat and bowed low. "Ser Aldric. The Old Gods bless you. Thank you for avenging my kin."
"It's too early for thanks," Aldric said grimly. "I only killed the stragglers. The main host of Skagosi raiders—eighty men strong—is still out there."
Aldric yanked the rope, pulling the captive bandit forward. The man stumbled and fell into the dirt.
"I kept this one alive," Aldric said. "He knows their numbers and their tactics. Do you have a master-at-arms in this village?"
Eonet stared at the trembling bandit, his eyes narrowing with a dark, sudden hatred. "We have no lords here, Ser. But we have men who fought in the Rebellion. You can leave him with us."
Aldric noted the hard calluses on Eonet's hands. They weren't just from a plow. Veterans.
"Good," Aldric said, handing the rope over. "Is there an inn? My squire and I haven't slept in a real bed in a month."
Eonet's hostility vanished, replaced by rural hospitality. "We have a tavern. Home-brewed ale, very strong. Two clean rooms upstairs. You will sleep well, Ser."
Eonet turned to a young boy hovering nearby. "Alvin! Run to your brother. Tell him the coastal village was burned. Tell him this knight saved the survivors. Tell him to prep the best rooms and a hot meal!"
The boy bolted toward the village.
Led by Eonet, the group walked toward Stoneyard. The farmers abandoned their fields, following closely behind, whispering fearfully about the Skagosi.
As they approached the low, earthen wall that ringed the village, a dozen men burst from the gates. They wore boiled leather and carried pitchforks, wood-axes, and rusted spears.
"Pirates!" the leader shouted, raising a heavy warhammer. "Where are they?"
Aldric sighed, his hand resting lightly on his pommel. Don't do anything stupid.
The leader, wearing a dented half-helm, locked eyes on Aldric's imposing armor. Without asking questions, he charged, swinging the hammer wildly.
Aldric didn't draw his blade. He simply sidestepped the clumsy swing, put a hand on the man's shoulder, and pushed. The militia leader lost his footing in the mud and tumbled face-first into the dirt.
"Ebie, you fool!" Eonet roared, rushing forward to kick the hammer away. "This is the knight who saved Jenny! He's not a pirate!"
A tall, blonde-haired man with a thick beard ran up, looking panicked. "Eonet? What is this? Alvin said pirates were attacking!"
Eonet groaned, rubbing his face. "I told the boy that the other village was attacked, and to prep a meal for our savior!"
The tension evaporated into profound awkwardness. The militiaman on the ground slowly pushed himself up, his face bright red beneath the mud. He muttered a quick apology and scurried to the back of the group.
The blonde man stepped forward, bowing to Aldric. "I am sorry, Ser. We are on edge. I am Gabry, Alvin's brother. I own the tavern. It would be my honor to host you."
Aldric let out a long breath, releasing his grip on his sword. "Just show me to the ale, Gabry."